Like Heaven
by Iffy Jr
Summary: Derek/Stiles post-season 3a. "I love you." That's what Derek said two days ago, and Stiles hasn't left his room since. What are you supposed to say to that when you're not ready for it? Stiles was literally wiping vampire gunk off of his hands and Derek just threw it out like a gunshot. COMPLETE.


**Notes**: I'm super sick right now so it's really hard for me to write ugh. Anyway, this is just something I threw together for some inspirational help… It's a PWP-ish thing that I've been writing between other things. Honestly I'm writing like 976745 things right now due to the fact that I only ever have enough inspiration to start a new idea and then that's about it. It's suuuper annoying and I really hope it goes away because ugh. Anyway, enjoy what I managed to actually get done during this monstrous block thingy!  
  
**Disclaimer**: You know the drill!

**Summary**: Derek/Stiles post-season 3a. "I love you." That's what Derek said two days ago, and Stiles hasn't left his room since. What are you supposed to say to that when you're not ready for it? Stiles was literally wiping vampire gunk off of his hands and Derek just threw it out like a gunshot. COMPLETE.

**Pairings**: (Main) Derek/Stiles  
**Rating**: Mature  
**Additional tags/warnings**: strong language; post-season 3a; romance; m/m and m/f parings; sexual content; first time; bottom!Stiles, top!Derek; PWP, PWalittleP

PS I totally didn't edit this after finishing it because I'm way too tired so bear with me on any mistakes here!

* * *

**Like Heaven**

"_I love you."_

That's what Derek said two days ago (on Friday) and Stiles hasn't left his room since. What are you supposed to say to that when you're not ready for it? Stiles was literally wiping vampire gunk off of his hands and Derek just threw it out like a gunshot.

He's glad that nobody else heard it and that Scott happened to grab him away to help him clean up another vampire mess before he could answer, and by that time Derek and Cr had left the scene to get back to their apartment and shower. Apparently vampires literally _explode_ in the sun. Not fun stuff.

Now Stiles is in his room because it's the weekend and he really doesn't want to see anybody—not Scott, not his dad, and especially not Derek.

What is he supposed to _say_ to that?

He doesn't want Derek, he's…

Stiles sighs. He doesn't know what he is. Straight for Lydia and possibly at one point gay for Danny but that was confusing and didn't last long. He's never really _looked_ at Derek before. He's looked at him, sure, but that's mostly due to the fact that he's jealous. Derek's got a perfect chest, perfect arms, a stupid perfect face…

How is that even fair? Stiles is pale and has moles and big hands and why on _earth_ would Derek find him even a little bit attractive? The guy could have anyone else in the world if he wasn't so broken about everything, but instead he picks _Stiles_ even when he is broken. What _for_? That's Stiles' main question. Why?

After that it's what to say. He knows he's not in love with Derek, but he is a close friend. After Boyd's death they just started spending more time together, arguing about how annoying Stiles is and researching and planning attacks and defense moves and Stiles really didn't know why the once-alpha ever wanted his help on things so important since he's usually an idiot, but he took what he could get. Now he knows why. Derek was falling in love with him. Why is Stiles so oblivious to those things? Seriously, if _he_ was a werewolf he'd sniff out all sorts of stuff.

His phone buzzes for a call, and he picks it up to see Derek's name flashing across the screen. He ignores the call, not quite ready for a conversation with the wolf that once slammed his face into a steering wheel. Wow… Had he even been an alpha then? They didn't even find out that Peter _was_ the alpha until later that night. It seems so long ago now…

Stiles' phone buzzes once, and he opens up Derek's text without much thought: **I was just calling to tell u that u left ur sweatshirt in the woods after u used it as a napkin.**

Stiles sighs, going to set his phone aside without answering again, but it buzzes twice more.

Derek's first is: **But yeah that other thing too. I probably shouldnt have said that. U just uh fight good and it spewed out.**

Stiles gets Mulan flashbacks as he opens the second: **At least let me drop this damn thing off before it stinks up my car.**

Stiles sighs again and answers: **Windows unlocked. Dads home and u know he thinks ure weird even for a werewolf.**

**Oh ya, he's told me to my face. I'll be over in about 10 mins.**

**Kk.**

Stiles' phone is down for about two minutes before his phone buzzes _three_ times, and of course they're all from Derek. His first: **If u call me pussyfoot one more time I'll shove mistletoe down ur throat. I cant believe I said it OUT LOUD. It was meant for my head & now he knows & I'd rather die than return this stupid thing but it really does stink.**

His second: **Shit that was for Cora**

And his third: **This is like a bad movie. I think I'll just keep ur sweatshirt, never mind.**

Stiles blinks a lot. Derek has never…been like this before. **Just bring me the damn sweatshirt, pussyfoot.**

**I hate you.**

Stiles debates to just say _I know_, but… **Apparently u dont.**

He hears the Camaro park somewhere across the street then, and Derek gets out before hopping silently up to Stiles' window to push it open. "Here," he says, dropping the sweatshirt straight into Stiles' laundry basket without looking at where Stiles is on the bed. "I'd suggest burning it, in all hones—"

Stiles cuts him off: "Why?"

Derek looks over at him slowly. "'Why' what?"

"You know what I mean, Derek."

The wolf averts his eyes. "It's not important."

"It's been eating me out for two days. I want to know."

Derek nods slowly as he sits down even slower on the edge of Stiles' bed. "I didn't mean to fall in love with you," he starts out with softly. "It just sort of…happened. One day I was watching you play Go Fish with Scott and Isaac and you screamed about how teaming up against him wasn't fair and I just… I realized it didn't bother me. Usually your voice can get annoying because it's _always_ complaining and _always_ loud and—"

"Okay, thanks, I get it."

Derek purses his lips to hide a smile. "It was at that point that I realized your voice didn't bother me anymore. I actually liked it. It became a soothing sound that's always there. Everything's always changing, right? Except you—for the most part. You're still always pretending that you're fine and making everybody laugh while doing it."

Stiles frowns.

Derek rolls his eyes a little. "Don't give me that look, you know it's true. Either way, that's why. You're the only thing that's been a constant since the moment I met you. Scott became an alpha, Allison became a—"

"A _bamf_?" Stiles suggests.

Derek nods. "That works. Some of us have died, Isaac switched alphas, Jackson left, Lydia's stopped pretending she's not smart, I became and alpha and then gave it up… Everyone is different but you. I mean, you've changed, but next to everyone else it's not so much. You're still here to make everyone laugh even though you're hurting inside, and that's…that's okay. I never did that. When I started hurting I locked everyone away and didn't give them the time of day, but you just lock it away and crack off a sarcastic joke. I wish that I could do that."

Stiles blinks at him a bit. "So, the reasons that you love me are because I'm a constant and because you're…jealous?"

Derek huffs. "Yeah, that's about it."

Stiles breathes a laugh, leaning around him to prop his head up on his elbow. "You're a lot less romantic with me than you tired to be with Jennifer."

Derek glares a bit. "I'm pretty sure a pretty smile wouldn't have worked on you."

Stiles looks away. "Probably not, no."

Derek leans back on his hands, looking at him. "I know you don't want me back," he says softly, "and that's okay too. I didn't even mean to tell you, so I don't expect you to suddenly realize some weird, deep feelings for me. I'm just glad you know why I do now that it's out."

Stiles nods, rolling onto his back. "Thank you," he says. "I mean, for telling me."

Derek nods. "Thanks for letting me return your sweatshirt."

They sit there in a few minutes of silence, somehow comfortable even though the situation is awkward.

"Now what?" Stiles eventually asks.

Derek sighs, long and deep. "Nothing, probably. We'll just pretend I never said anything. We'll just—"

"You could always just kiss me." Whoa, where'd that come from?

Derek frowns down at him. "Your heartbeat is staying level."

Stiles looks over at him with an arched eyebrow. "So?" So he's getting really damn good at keeping his panic attacks at bay.

"Why on earth would you want me to kiss you?" the wolf asks.

Stiles shrugs, looking back at the ceiling. "Maybe it'll convince me."

Derek actually snorts at that. "I doubt that."

Stiles pushes up on his hands, leaning back on them like Derek is. "Fine, we'll just forget about it."

Derek blinks at him. "Two days of avoiding me and suddenly you want me to just kiss you?"

Stiles sighs, looking away. "Maybe not. I think I'm just terrified and I want somebody who will hold my hand through it. Just because I'm good at hiding all my feelings of being hurt doesn't mean they're not—"

One of Derek's hands reaches up to catch Stiles' chin, keeping his head turned towards him as he leans in. His lips are soft, his fingers are warm, and the breath from his nose is clear.

When he pulls away, Stiles coughs slightly. "Oh," he says. "That was, uh…that was good, I think. Maybe even better than the one Lydia gave me."

Derek arches an eyebrow. "Lydia's kissed you?"

Stiles groans. "Shit, that's supposed to stay a secret. It was back when I found out that my dad had been taken. I started having a panic attack and she kissed me so I'd hold my breath." He breathes a laugh. "Guess I'm pretty glad it's not Scott who's the secret genius or else he'd of been kissing me."

Derek smiles. A real, warm smile even though his teeth aren't showing. Stiles figures that's a win for anyone. "She made you keep that a secret?"

Stiles shrugs. "Sort of with Ai, still in love with Jackson, once cheated with the help of Scott… As if she needs me to tarnish her record further."

"You wouldn't tarnish it, Stiles. You'd repair it."

Stiles snorts. "Now you're being romantic and should stop; it's weird."

Derek blinks back at him, and Stiles realized that he's still got his hand on his chin. "Please," the wolf whispers, eyes melting from green to their steel blue. The word is small and broken and so sincere that Stiles could make him says it again and again.

"Okay," he whispers.

Derek kisses him again, softer and warmer and clearer than before. He leans up so that his other hand can wrap around the back of Stiles' neck and push up into his hair as it's been growing out. It's a weird feeling, but Stiles thinks he likes it. He lifts his own hands up to grip onto the front of Derek's shirt, and it's only then that it occurs to him what he's really agreeing to. Sex with Derek fucking Hale. And he did agree, right? And that's okay. Stiles isn't eighteen for a couple more months, but—

"Stiles!" his dad calls, clomping towards his door.

Derek is off the bed and into the closet in less than a second, and Stiles swings into his usual head-in-his-hands position as the door pushes open.

"Hey, son, I just finished my movie, so I'm off to bed. You okay?"

Stiles looks up at him, glad the way he's leaning is hiding the raging hard-on he didn't know he had. "Huh? Yeah, I'm fine. What did you watch again?"

"Independence Day."

Stiles groans. "No wonder I didn't watch it with you. I've got some things to do for school, so I'll be up a bit longer."

"I figured you would be. Sleep well when you do, kiddo." He leaves, closing the door behind him.

Stiles lets out a huge breath of relief, and Derek lets himself out of the closet. Stiles is too thrilled it worked to make any jokes about the situation. "I forgot about him," he whispers.

"So did I," Derek says. "Maybe I should just—"

"Let me help you fog up the windows in your car?" Stiles suggests.

Derek blinks at him. "Why do you suddenly want to do this so badly?"

"First off, I'm a horny as fuck teenager and you turned me on. Second, you're actually really attractive. Third, you…" He trails off, averting his eyes. "Maybe we shouldn't. I mean, if you love me and I don't even know if I like you yet, it just doesn't seem fair to either of us."

Derek holds his hand out to him. "Maybe not, but at least I know what game we're playing right from the start. My last two girlfriends weren't very good at conveying those sorts of things."

Stiles grins, taking his hand. "I've never been a girlfriend before." He frowns. "Also I'm a virgin and this is possibly going to hurt a lot."

"Grab your lube and I promise it won't."

Stiles complies, and then he actually swings Stiles onto his back to get down to his car silently. The back seats look tiny at first, but then Derek pushes the other two forward and puts some stuff in the trunk and it suddenly looks fine.

"Too bad Cr lives with you," Stiles whispers as he and Derek both crawl in. "It's going to be super unromantic telling people I lost my virginity in a car."

"An expensive car," Derek corrects. "They'll be very jealous."

Stiles snorts. "Someone seems happy."

"I love you, Stiles—and don't answer that. I know you have no idea what you're doing yet. That's okay. I just want you to know that right now you're the most important thing in this entire car."

Stiles gives a mix between a giggle and an uneasy laugh. "I have no idea how to respond to that."

Derek laughs. A real laugh. Holy fuck, a real laugh from Derek Hale. And then he's kissing Stiles again, pulling them into a position that suits the car. It's longer than it looks, but Derek's knees are still bent up when he ends up on his back with Stiles straddling him. He just keeps kissing him, letting his hands roam across Stiles' body and pushing fabric out of the way to get to skin and honestly it's great but it's a little daring since the car is literally right across the street from Stiles' house.

When Derek's hands are shoving Stiles pajama bottoms (AKA sweats) down, Stiles knows there's no turning back, and he's okay with that.

"One of your legs is shaking," Derek whispers.

"Your hand is cold," Stiles lies.

"Your heartbeat says otherwise. We don't have to do this, you know."

"I know." He leans down to kiss him hard, sliding his hands down his stomach to get to the front of his jeans. "But I want to."

Derek smiles, small but warm. "Good, because these windows could do with a good fogging." He rolls them around somewhat awkwardly to get Stiles on bottom, and Stiles decides that that's as good a time as any to get their shirts off. He pushes up at Derek's Henley to get it onto the floor, and Derek does the same for Stiles' own shirt.

"You've obviously done this before," Stiles says, "so how should we do this? I mean…as a position…in the back of the car. Your legs look uncomfortable."

Derek glances down at them. "Nah, they're fine. I thought behind would work best, though. It hurts less, too."

Stiles gives a fervent nod. "Please and thank you." He starts to turn, but Derek stops him:

"You still have your boxers on, idiot."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "I liked it better when you were romantic."

Derek shrugs. "Sucks."

He sits down differently so he can get his own jeans off and boxers off in one go, and then his hands move to Stiles' boxers.

"It's a good thing all of us guys have already seen each other naked," Stiles says as he tries really hard not to just stare at Derek's dick (like, he wants to know what's going inside of him okay?), "or this would be really nerve-wracking."

Derek snorts, getting them off. "It hasn't exactly been in this same light, but I know what you mean." He leans over the passenger seat and grabs up the lube bottle where they had thrown it. "This is going to be cold, by the way."

"I have used it before, you know," Stiles says with a little eye roll. "I mean, not there I guess, but—"

Derek kisses him into silence, dropping the bottle beside them as his hands splay out against Stiles' chest and stomach. "I find it funny," he says as he trails kisses along Stiles' jaw and neck and shoulder, "that you can be so attractive and yet still not ever get laid because you're so annoying sometimes."

Stiles wrinkles his nose up. "Was that supposed to be a turn-on? I mean, thanks for finding me attractive, but geez."

Derek breathes a laugh, grabbing the bottle back up. "I wasn't really going for anything. Just an observation."

"Now you sound like Isaac."

"Would you still be doing this if I looked like him, too?"

Stiles frowns. "I have no idea. He has nice hair, I guess. You have a nice everything, though, so…" He gives a nonchalant shrug. "I'm good."

Derek hums, opening the bottle. "Good to hear."

Stiles pulls in a deep breath, watching the way that Derek coats three of his fingers. He definitely has a bigger dick than Stiles, but at least it's not large enough for that XXL condom he still has somewhere in his bedroom. Like, kudos to him if it was, but that would probably hurt a hell of a lot more than Stiles would enjoy.

"Your heartbeat is faster than your mouth usually is," Derek says, closing the bottle. "Are you sure yo—"

"Oh my goood," Stiles says, dropping his head back. "If I didn't want to I would have backed out back when you boxers came off. Just do it."

Derek does, rubbing a finger around the outside first before pushing in slow. He's watching Stiles face and Stiles doesn't want to make a face, but he can't help it.

"That is so weird," he says.

"It gets better," Derek says, pulling out just as slow as going in.

Stiles shifts his hips a bit. "How would you even know that? 'Cause there's no way you've ever been a sub. Were you just told?"

Derek _hmphs_ a little. "I've been a lot of things, actually, so I can tell you from firsthand experience that if I keep doing this right then it _will_ get better."

Stiles' eyes bulge a little. "Dude, how big was—"

"_Stiles_."

"Alright, alright, geez. Just kiss me or something, you know I never stop talking."

Derek does, pushing in another finger to stretch him even further. That feels a little uncomfortable too, but by the time Derek is stretching him with the third finger Stiles realizes that it actually feels…okay. Like, weird, because seriously, but also good. That's good, very promising.

When Derek pulls his hand away, he leans up as well, giving the hand a gross look before wiping it on a towel on the ground that Stiles didn't see before. "I could practically _smell_ all of your muscles relaxing, by the way," he says. "You're welcome."

Stiles blinks up at him a bit. "Oh my god, you are totally one of those guys that gets all confident during sex! Now you sound like _Jackson_."

Derek frowns. "I am not, I was just pointing out that, see, it _does_ get better. Jackson and I have nothing in common except our music taste."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Sure." He pushes up on his hands, sitting up a bit. "_Sure_."

Derek huffs, leaning forward so that their noses are touching. "Maybe _I_ should back out of this."

Stiles grins, throwing his arms up to wrap around Derek's neck. "Nonsense," he says, slipping their mouths closer together. "We both have raging hard boners and all that stretching would have been for nothing."

Derek hums, wrapping his arms around Stiles' waist. "That's true…"

Stiles always pictured Derek as one of those rough and tumble kind of guys, fast and hard and heavy and all that. He's honestly soft as fuck, though, and slow and careful and it's super weird but also a turn-on? Stiles _never_ should have agreed to this, but he sure is glad he did.

"You should fuck me now," Stiles eventually breathes, letting go of the way he was sucking in on Derek's tongue.

Derek pulls away with wide, blue eyes. "Okay," he says.

Stiles can't help but laugh a little, shoving at his chest. "If you were anyone else I would make fun of you so much."

Derek arches an eyebrow. "You have been making fun of me."

"Not as much as I want to."

He rolls his eyes. "Hand and knees, asshole."

Stiles just laughs again, doing so. He looks over his shoulder to watch Derek grab the towel back up and spread it out below Stiles' stomach, and then he's grabbing up the lube and uncapping it so he can coat his own length. It's right about then that he realizes he _isn't_ nervous anymore. He's just…anticipating? He never thought he'd feel that way about Derek _or_ someone's dick, but he's not complaining. He'd rather be ready for it than nervous. His own dick his hard and everything, it's great.

Derek leans up on his knees, back bend down a bit so he doesn't hit his head on the roof of the car. "I'll go slow," he says. "Slower than the fingers."

Stiles nods, looking away. "Go for it."

He feels the pressure first, rubbing twice before beginning to push inside. He's really glad that Derek can't see his face at first, but it might not hurt, but it's definitely a weird as fuck feeling. Almost instantly, though, before Derek has even pushed in all of the way, Stiles gets the same sensation as the fingers: it feels _good_.

When Derek is all the way in he pauses, breath coming out steady and even. When Stiles glances over his shoulder, though, he sees that the usual steel blue has darkened to more of a navy. "You good?" he asks.

Stiles can't help but grin. "You sound wrecked."

He expected an eye roll or something, but Derek just gives a weird fond smile and says, "Yeah, you feel good."

So Stiles looks away and braces his hands a little better. "Keep moving," he says.

Derek doesn't disappoint, pulling out just as slow. He speeds up the tiniest bit every few thrusts, and the faster he goes, the better Stiles feels. Derek's hands are gripping to his hips, and Stiles can feel his claws, but they're not holding tight enough to draw blood. Stiles doesn't even care how blatantly he's moaning, because the little breathy ones that Derek is giving are almost more of a turn-on than the sex itself—which is hard to do, because _fuck_.

Derek suddenly bends farther over Stiles' back and wraps an arm around his waist, completely enveloping him. The angle does…does something, and Stiles cries out louder than he has this entire time, focusing in on the stars that are popping before his vision. It doesn't help that Derek unexpectedly has a hand around his dick, too, pumping in time with the thrusts and _god_, agreeing to this was the best idea Stiles has ever had ever.

He can feel _everything_. The way that Derek is nearing and how close he is too and honestly he had _no_ idea that a simple doggy-style (wolfy-style?) could be so gratifying. When he feels Derek come his entire body shudders, and it rocks Stiles in just the right way that he comes as well, emptying out onto the towel.

He doesn't know how long they stay like that, just breathing, but Derek eventually pulls out, and both of them collapse back to sit on their asses in the seats in unison, Stiles careful to avoid the towel so he practically ends up on Derek's lap. Stiles looks at Derek first, watching the way his fangs, claws, and eyes are just now receding to their normal looks.

"What, no furry cheeks?" he asks. His voice comes out tired and sated and totally embarrassing.

Derek looks down at him, his hair a mess and a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. "It's the easiest thing to keep away." He sounds even worse than Stiles.

Stiles nods, swallowing to wet his throat a bit more. "Cool."

Derek looks like he's about to say something else, but Stiles continues first:

"We should totally do that again."

Derek blinks a bit.

"I mean, not right now, but like, sometime eventually. Anytime." He looks around the car. "And, not that your expensive car isn't totally great, but next time we should do it in a bed or something."

When he looks back at Derek, the wolf is there, kissing him almost hard but more like the same soft, slow way he's been doing all night. He's got both of his hands cradling Stiles' face, too.

Stiles breathes a laugh when Derek pulls away. "Calm down, sourwolf. That wasn't a confession of my undying love for you."

That doesn't seem to deter Derek in any sort of amount. "It was mine."

Stiles totally blushes, so he looks down at his hands. "_Now_ you sound like—"

"_Now_ who?" Derek interrupts. "Scott? Danny? Matt, maybe."

Stiles gives him a dull look before turning it into a warm smile. "Not even close."

Derek frowns. "Who?"

Stiles shakes his head. "No way, you're being mean."

Derek gives a sad look, and Stiles almost falls over because it's so…cute. It's like little lost puppy dog cute.

"That look is pure Scott," Stiles says, shoving the towel over so he can stretching his legs out. "And Scott is adorable, so I'm totally going to tell you." He drops his head to Derek's lap, bending his knees.

Derek tilts his head slightly, waiting.

Stiles smiles, pulling him down for a quick kiss (seriously, he kisses like a god; it's totally not fair). "I was going to say that you sound like…" He licks his lips. "Heaven."

Derek blinks at him with wide eyes, still bent down to him. "You… What?"

Stiles grins. "You heard me, asshole."

Derek kisses him again. "Love your not," he says afterwards, "I'm not letting go of you."

Stiles shrugs. "I can live with that. That was fucking great. Also, you're not so bad when you're not being a dick."

"Nice to know we see each other in the same light."

Stiles grins again. "The next step is not letting everyone make fun of us about it."

"All of the wolves have already made fun of me for it."

Stiles frowns. "Huh?"

He taps his nose. "It wasn't hard to figure me out. Love gives off a crazy strong scent that you can't cover no matter how hard you to try."

Stiles blinks a bit. "Wait, was that back when you wore _liters_ of cologne like, a month ago? To try and cover it up?"

Derek's blush is literally the best thing Stiles has ever seen in his life. "I forgot about that."

Stiles laughs. "And you think you're so tough."

He rolls his eyes. "I suppose that makes me Allison now."

"More like Lydia, actually. She pretends to hate everyone but she's actually super sweet if she cares enough—just like you now."

Derek nods. "That's true."

"By the way, I'm not some crazy arsonist who won't take to the bite and is going to go on a murder spree, so you're safe to pour everything you have into making me love you back."

Derek looks conflicted between snarling at Stiles or kissing him again, so he settles for glaring a little. "Now _you're_ being Jackson."

Stiles flits a wrist. "No way, I've always been a jerk. Now shut up and show me heaven again; you taste good."

Derek doesn't hesitate to comply.

_**The End**_


End file.
